An Angel's Dark Secret
by Wrastrix
Summary: Harry stumbles across a part of him which he had forgotten and it made him think - do even the good people have a dark side? WARNING Deals with suicide/aftermath. Also, the rating is up due to confusion in the story. Enjoy!


"And don't knock anything over!"  
  
Harry Potter sighed and walked up the stairs to his Aunt and Uncle's room where he opened a cupboard door; in real fact it was the door to the stairs, which led up to the attic.  
  
His Aunt had told him to try and find a vase amongst the rubbish in the attic, because she apparently wanted to sell it to the people next door.  
  
After spending about two hours looking through the attic, he found the vase.  
  
It was an oval shaped, dark green vase that apparently belonged to Charles the first - Harry personally thought it belonged to the rubbish tip.  
  
As he picked it up, he cringed inwardly as something fell onto the floor.  
  
When he put the vase back on the dusty unit and crouched down to pick up what had fallen on the floor, he discovered that it was a very rusty tin, which appeared to be about the size of a biscuit tin. He opened it up, and found a couple of rusty pence, a pencil, a rubber, a quill, a pot of drying ink, an old newspaper, a yellowing book labelled "The Darkest Potions" and several pieces of yellowing paper.  
  
All of the paper seemed to be notes on potions - but as he picked up the potion book, another piece of yellowing notepaper fell out of the book.  
  
He looked at it curiously for a moment, then sat down on the dusty floor and started to read.  
  
  
  
  
  
My dearest friend,  
  
I have never felt so many feelings at one time - in my entire life.  
  
Last night as I was writing to my Potions Master, I came across a photograph that was taken last year at my Grandfather's Annual Christmas Party which is held at his manor - the one where You, Lucius, Alexander Severus, Peter and I were sitting by the lake and waiting to see if Elizabeth was going to resurface from the lake or not.  
  
Anyway, I started thinking about what I had said to you last week - this cannot go on Michael.  
  
We have know each other since before our births, when our dear parents decided that we should grow up together and also be united - no matter what.  
  
The words that were exchanged by you and myself were uncalled for and unfair.  
  
What I said was said in a way in which you would understand easily, rather than me telling you the entire truth and you not understanding.  
  
I did not expect that you would take it in the way you did - which was a fault on my part entirely.  
  
I had not looked at all the possibilities that could happen - my Father always used to tell me that I should always be prepared, no matter what; and there I was, not even bothering to remember.  
  
If you leave, then the gigantic effort in which our parents set out for the both of us will be lost - I also care far too deeply to be without you for more than a week.  
  
I cannot put what I felt when you told me that you were leaving into words, for I felt too many feelings - many which I had never felt before.  
  
So, I have composed you a poem that tells you how I really feel.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
You used to be my sweetheart,  
  
my childhood dream;  
  
you were whom I ran to, whenever I was in need.  
  
A friend till the very end,  
  
to me, he helped me defend.  
  
The darkness will conquer  
  
our love for each other  
  
never leaving anybody free,  
  
Always choosing the dying seeds.  
  
He was a dream  
  
Helped me out of darkness,  
  
Helped me to lean.  
  
A friend, till the very end  
  
always mending a broken heart,  
  
till death do us part?  
  
City lights never die.  
  
Neither did we, until life lied.  
  
All my dreams came to nothing  
  
can't you see?  
  
All the tears I have cried,  
  
because they lied,  
  
all the laughter we shared,  
  
Is now a memory?  
  
Can't you see?  
  
Why love leaves?  
  
Why innocence dies?  
  
But you, in my eyes, shall always fly.  
  
Never ceasing to be,  
  
It was always you and I  
  
Look at what we became,  
  
Just for fame  
  
You took my light,  
  
Not for a fight,  
  
You shone like a star,  
  
All around,  
  
Near or far,  
  
I loved you,  
  
I was a fool to let you go,  
  
I should have stopped,  
  
I should have said no.  
  
I'm not cupid,  
  
but we both weren't stupid.  
  
The arrow shot through,  
  
I'm sorry too.  
  
For the pain I caused you,  
  
through and Through  
  
You should have never of gone,  
  
how I long for your laughter,  
  
which I have sought after,  
  
to know you're safe.  
  
Not to worry,  
  
I always worry.  
  
I belong in  
  
your arms  
  
Far away from any harm  
  
all I can do  
  
is wait for you, in my mind?  
  
Look how apart we've grown  
  
Did we ever know?  
  
If I found you,  
  
would I ever let you go?  
  
No.  
  
  
  
  
  
With all the luck and love in the world, I pray that you come back.  
  
Remember, my dragon, that once one of us leaves - none of us will be able to find the truth and the spell will be broken, if ever there was such a thing as a spell.  
  
  
  
I shall always be with you,  
  
Salazar Evans.  
  
  
  
  
  
He wiped the tear from his eye as he folded up the letter and placed it back inside the book.  
  
He had been so foolish when he was younger - to ever think that someone could reply to a letter like that, especially after the argument that they had had.  
  
But, maybe things might have been different - if Michael had even got to read it.  
  
Harry got up, picked up the vase and walked towards the attic door.  
  
He had a lot to do.  
  
  
  
  
  
* * * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry smiled as he picked the flower that was growing by the grave.  
  
"You don't know how much pain you've caused me, buddy," he whispered as he placed the flower on the middle of the grave.  
  
He rose to his full level and looked at the white Angel on top of the memorial statue before looking down at the writing that was scrolled underneath.  
  
  
  
  
  
In Loving Memory of  
  
  
  
Michael Severus Riddle  
  
  
  
Loving Son, Brother, Friend and Grandson  
  
1980 - 1987  
  
May he live on in all of our hearts  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The day Harry had written the letter of apology to Michael, two policemen had come to tell Harry that he had been killed in a car accident the night before.  
  
Harry had run out of the house after they had told him, looking for the nearest newsagents.  
  
On the front of three of the newspapers were the words 'Child, 7, Killed in Hit and Run'.  
  
Harry had then collapsed on the floor - he woke up in a warm bed two days later that happened to be Severus' bedroom.  
  
After Michael's death, his friends had all moved away to different parts of the world - and Harry had never tried contacting them.  
  
Harry sniffed as tears rolled silently down his face, he didn't make any movement to stop them - he just dug his hands deeply into his jeans pockets and continued to stare at the words that were written on the stone.  
  
"I don't know if you'll ever forgive me. I don't know if you even care, but I have to find out - one way or another. We always did do everything the same, after all." he chocked out as he stared at the starry sky.  
  
  
  
* * * * * *  
  
"Where is that boy?" Vernon Dursley asked his wife as he stared at the television set.  
  
"I don't know Vernon. You know what he's like - probably getting into trouble somewhere," Petunia screeched.  
  
"Mum, Dad. I'm home!" A voice came from by the door, followed by a shutting of something.  
  
"Did you get the paper, Dudley?" Vernon asked as Dudley came in and handed him the paper.  
  
"I think that you should take a look at the front page before looking at the sport, dad." Dudley said quickly, as Vernon looked at him.  
  
Vernon sighed as he stared at Dudley and lifted the cup of tea to his mouth.  
  
He drunk some and looked at the front page - but he spitted back out again was he saw what was on the front page of the morning paper.  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry Potter - Dead  
  
His blood was found covering the gravestone of his old friend, Michael Riddle.  
  
"We took the blood from the area, and from the blade and various pieces of clothing found near it - it was his." The DNA specialist told us.  
  
"Him and Michael used to do everything together - maybe now that Michael is gone, Harry wanted to go with him." Tells a very emotional Miss White, one of his old teachers.  
  
All we know is that we haven't found his body yet. If the clothes are anything to go by - it could be in any state. Lets hope that we find the corpse however to get at least some idea of why he did it.  
  
"There's just a tiny bit of something - maybe even hope, that he's still alive."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Finis 


End file.
